Deception's Pawn (Princesses of Myth) (20 page)

The young lord of the Ulaidh seized my shoulders and
pulled me so close to him that I could look nowhere but into his blazing green eyes. “When I become High King of Èriu, it won’t be thanks to the sly dealings of men like Morann and Cairill. They don’t deserve the title of lord or the glorious life of a warrior. I hate Eochu for taking my father from me, but there was nothing ignoble in the way he did it, man to man and bravely, in front of the lords of Èriu. I’ll win my father’s title honorably or not at all.”

His lips were on mine. I had no way to escape the power of his kiss. I don’t think I would have wanted to, but he acted so quickly I never had the chance to think about where my desires ended and his began. All I knew was that the taste of his mouth was hot and sweet, and that his kiss turned my bones to fire.

A weak thought struggled free of the flames:
This is wrong
, wrong
! How can you let anyone but Odran kindle such a feeling in you? Have you forgotten him so easily? Are you foolish enough to believe you mean as much to Conchobar as you did to him? Run away, Maeve! Save yourself before you fall into deep water and drown, before these strong arms carry you past the point where you can break away. Run!

I wedged my hands between us and pushed against his chest. Our mouths parted and cold air rushed into my body with the force of a blacksmith’s hammer. I gulped it desperately.

He cupped my face with one sword-callused hand. “Maeve?” His plaintive gaze made me ache to soothe away the hurt I saw there. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“That’s right: you shouldn’t have done that.” Kian stood glowering at us, the errant hound at his side, one fist clutching the scruff of its neck so tightly that the huge creature whimpered like a puppy.

I drew scarcely two shallow breaths before he wheeled around in wordless, white-hot rage and barged away, hauling the terrified dog with him. I, too, fled, never looking back, abandoning the too-bold lord of the Ulaidh.

Lady Lassaire’s glare was worse than her son’s. “What did you think you were doing, behaving like that with Lord Conchobar?” she demanded of me. The two of us were alone in her sleeping chamber. She’d ordered me there almost as soon as I set one foot across the great house’s threshold. Kian must have flown to her with the tale of what he’d seen. “Your shamelessness will be on every tongue!”

I took a deep breath. “One kiss,” I said. “That was all there was.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You are very young. You don’t know where one kiss can lead.”

I could always ask Dairine
, I thought wickedly.
And why haven’t you ever questioned any of
her
doings? There’s a reason you’re picking on me.

“There’s no love lost between the High King and Lord Conchobar,” Lady Lassaire went on. “You don’t realize what a disaster it would be if your father learned about what you’ve done.”

“It was a mistake, my lady,” I said. “My father doesn’t need to be concerned. I don’t love Lord Conchobar. I’m not even sure how it happened, but I promise you, it won’t happen again.”

Lady Lassaire’s frown faded into her familiar smile, as bland as watered milk. “Poor Maeve, I do know how it happened: our guest has a reputation for taking what he wants when it comes to pretty girls. You deserve better. I’m happy to
say Lord Conchobar will be going home in a few days. If we’re fortunate, he’ll stay there. Until then, you mustn’t let yourself be caught alone with him. I’ll speak to the other fosterlings and have them look after you in the meantime.”

Look after me?
Was I an infant who needed nursemaids? I bristled at the thought.

“My lady, I can take care of myself,” I said as mildly as I could.

“If that were true, we wouldn’t be having this little talk.” Her smile became absolutely infuriating. “You
will
be guarded against any further ‘mistakes’ with Lord Conchobar, but if you’d rather not involve your friends, I have an idea: when you’re not with us, you
must
be in my son’s company. I’ll arrange it.”

“Please, Lady Lassaire, you needn’t do that,” I protested. “I don’t want to keep him from his other duties.”

She laughed. “You don’t have to pretend for me, Maeve. I know how you two use that hawk of his as an excuse to be together. Oh, don’t give me
that
look, dear: I’m not going to scold either of you for it. My dearest wish is for my son’s happiness—and yours too. That’s why I’m going to watch over you from now on, to protect you from any more wrong choices.” She tucked back one of my stray curls affectionately. “I understand young hearts.”

I returned her smile as best I could, but all I could think was,
You don’t understand anything at all.

Lady Lassaire made good on her threat. I was never allowed another moment alone with Conchobar until his departure three days later, not that I’d wanted one. From the cold looks and colder speech they exchanged at his leave-taking, I gathered
that she’d tried to send him on his way even sooner, and not by any subtle means.

The frost between them was like a Beltane bonfire compared to what I now felt for Kian. At my first opportunity, I had him come with me to Ea’s refuge and raked him raw for talebearing.

“Are you a man or a toddling child, running to your mother over every scratch?” I demanded. “She spoke as if I were some wild, brazen girl who’d go running after any man! She decided I had to have
you
for my keeper because I’d throw myself at Conchobar if he even glanced at me! How do you think that made me feel?”

“How do you think
I
felt when I saw you kissing him?” he countered.

“Why should you care who I kiss?” I was too caught up in my own anger to realize the answer.

He groaned. “You’re impossible.”

“And
you
might have lingered long enough to let me explain how it happened.”

“I’d rather listen to Master Fintan. At least when
he
dreams up a fantasy, I can believe it!”

My hand rose to slap the insult from his lips, but I caught myself in time. I heard Ea’s piercing cry at my back as I walked out in silence.

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTEEN

Shut Out and Shut In

“M
AEVE
,
TALK
TO
him.” Dairine perched on the side of my bed in the dark and leaned on me.

“Go to sleep, pest,” I grumbled, trying to get her off me. She seemed to have the magical ability to gain the bulk of a cow carcass at will.

“No.” She shifted just enough to weigh as much as
two
cows, with a calf thrown in for good measure. “Not until you say you’ll talk to Lord Kian again.”

“I’ll talk to Lord Kian again. There. I said it.”

“Saying isn’t promising. Swear!”

I made a mighty effort and flipped over, dumping my relentless friend onto the floor. Dairine yelped and pelted me with all the nasty names she knew.

“Shush, Dairine,” Ula commanded from her spot in the darkened room. “Too much noise and someone will tell Lady Lightning.”

“You think she’ll leave her nice warm bed and punish us?” the black-haired girl sneered. “If she did, Maeve’s the only one who’d suffer.”

“Just what she deserves,” Bryg put in. “Breaking poor Lord Kian’s heart so
cruuuuuuuuuelly.
” She uttered the last word as a melancholy tune and drew it out, up, down, and into a musical knot. Everyone giggled except Gormlaith. The girl could sleep through anything.

“The least you could do is let him know you’re sorry,” Ula said primly.

“For
what
?” I was tired from the day’s work, perishing for lack of sleep, and testy. “I told you what I told Kian: I did
not
kiss Conchobar. He kissed
me.
”

“There’s a difference?” Dairine spoke playfully, but I was in no mood for games.

“Yes, but it takes brains to see it, not a lump of mud between your ears. Why do any of you care if I speak to him or not?” I cried, sitting up in bed. “It’s been four days and there’s always one of you nagging me about it. Let it go.”

“We feel bad for him,” Ula explained.

“We feel bad for you too,” Bryg said in her most appealing voice. “You’re angry, so you’re shunning him, but don’t you miss visiting that hawk—”

“Falcon.” I corrected her automatically.

“Hawk, falcon,
bird
, you know what I mean.” Bryg’s sweetness vanished the instant I put her in the wrong. “You’re only spiting yourself, you stupid girl!”

“How do you know I don’t visit Ea when he’s not with her?” I challenged, though it wasn’t so.

“Because she isn’t
there
anymore,” Bryg said triumphantly. “He’s moved her from the arms storehouse to a different outbuilding. I helped carry some of her things.”

“Where is she?”

“Ask him.”

“You helped him move her; you know where she is too.”

“I do. But if you want to see her again, you’ll still have to ask
him.
” I couldn’t see her face in the dark, but I knew the wretched little beast was grinning.

“I’m surprised, Bryg,” I said, holding back my temper. “You’re encouraging me to make up with Kian, but if you left things as they are, you could have him all to yourself. That’s what you really want.”

I didn’t know if I was right, but it was a good guess. I remembered how sullen Bryg became when Kian accidentally belittled her and praised me when he spoke about Ea. Even if I hadn’t witnessed that, which of the fosterlings
wouldn’t
want to marry the young man who’d command Dún Beithe someday?

Bryg didn’t reply immediately. At last she said, “What’s the use of being alone with him when all he talks about is you?”

I held on to my silence for a few more days. Ula and Dairine continued their attempts to soften my heart, though Bryg never said another word about the situation. Kian himself subjected me to long, mournful looks at mealtimes. Then there was Lady Lassaire. Since I refused to speak to her son, the only words she had for me were biting scorn, chill mockery, and harsh criticism of everything I did.

Does she know how unreasonable she’s being?
I wondered as I set to ripping out a perfectly straight seam that she declared
sloppy.
She’s making a drop of water into a flood. Can’t she
see
herself acting like
—
like—?

I blinked.
Like me.

I wanted to leap up that very instant, find Kian, and mend things between us. Unfortunately, Lady Lassaire decided I could use my time better helping the servants prepare dinner.

“I’m giving you this job as a special privilege, dear Maeve,” she said in cloying tones. “You’ll be supervising your own household one day, if you ever find the husband you deserve, so you must know everything that goes into the making of a meal.”

“Everything” turned out to be nothing: nothing but hard labor. The chief cook never let me watch the preparation of a single dish. Instead she gave me a series of burdensome chores, though she looked more and more guilt-ridden with each new assignment she piled on me.

“It’s all right,” I said, wanting to set her at ease. “Someone’s got to do this.” I knew who’d really given the order condemning me to trudge to the woodpile and the garbage pit, carrying one heavy load after another. I was worn out and starving by dinnertime, but when I went to get my portion, Lady Lassaire intervened.

“My sweet child, look at how filthy your dress is. I can’t let you humiliate yourself, looking like that in front of everyone. Go change your clothes.”

Weary beyond belief, I slumped my way to the fosterlings’ sleeping chamber. By the time I removed my work-stained gown, the sight of my bed had become so irresistible that I forgot my hunger, told myself I’d lie down for just a moment, and didn’t open my eyes for the rest of the night.

I woke up the next day with a fierce hunger and a fiercer determination to speak to Kian.
Lady Lackwit will think it’s all her doing
, I thought bitterly.
She’ll congratulate herself so much that she’ll probably sprain her arm from patting herself on the back.

I also awoke to an empty room. My chores had tired me so much that I’d slept late, and none of my friends had bothered to rouse me.
I’ve missed breakfast!
The thought was alarming, especially when I was hiding a growling, gnawing wolf in my belly.

Fortunately for me, I found the chief cook at the hearthside, supervising a cleaning crew of servants. She babbled a torrent of apologies for the previous day while she heaped a platter with the best portions of bread, meat, and cheese she could find.

“Enough, enough!” I exclaimed, smiling with gratitude. “This is all much too good for me.”

“No, it’d be too good for
some
people,” she muttered. “When I’ve got a grudge against anyone, I have it out with them honestly, face to face. I don’t force others to do it for me. It’s not right. It’s not worthy of anyone, highborn or low.” She cast a meaningful look at the household cauldron. “It’s not
wise.
”